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Seducer of the Valleys dies after riotous life of wine and women
Keith Dovkants14 Jan 2009
SOMEONE once asked Dai Llewellyn if he did the lottery. "No, old boy," he drawled. "I have already won the lottery of life."
And so it seemed. Born into a famous, titled family, unburdened by the need to work and with abundant charm and good looks he did indeed appear to be one of the world's great winners.
The game he so much adored ended last night. Sir Dai, wracked by cancer, cirrhosis of the liver and anaemia, died in a Kent hospital where he had been receiving treatment for several weeks. His death leaves a gap in London society that will be hard, if not impossible, to fill. Sir Dai was defined by a recklessness that belongs to another age.
He was 62, a child of the post-war era, but he lived like an Edwardian rake, strutting the boulevards with a wicked smile, never too far from another drink or a beautiful woman. Women were the delight of Sir Dai's life and they earned him his enduring nickname, Seducer of the Valleys. Sleep was a waste of time, he would say, unless you were doing it with a beautiful girl. And there were very many of them.
Paul Callan, the journalist, recalled: "He told me about a hilarious episode of having three debs in a bed, each of whom he was happily servicing, while a Mexican band stood naked around the bed serenading them."
In 2005 he slipped away with another man's date to a discreet bedroom. Things were going well, Sir Dai said, until "the corner of the bed started to go". Then, he said: "We plunged through the floorboards and a wardrobe fell on top of us". Sir Dai told such stories with a gusto that was infectious. He would never get up in the morning planning to make love to three women, he would say, adding "but if it happened, it happened".
Beatrice Welles, daughter of Orson Welles, was a conquest, as was Annegret Tree, one of London's great beauties. He married a niece of the former Duke of Norfolk, Vanessa. The marriage failed and they divorced, but remained close. She was at his bedside last night with their daughters, Arabella, 24, a banker and Olivia, 28, an actress.
"It was almost like a little party," said his friend Dragomir Devedlaka, who went to the hospital to say his last goodbye. "He lived more in six months than the majority live in their lifetime."
As a young man, Sir Dai pursued a modelling career under the name David Savage. Nicky Haslam, the interior designer and writer said: "When I first met Dai he was incredibly good-looking and well dressed. The girls fell for him like mad."
Sir Dai assisted the process with relentless flattery and assiduous attention, but he always maintained that women loved a rascal, especially those who make them laugh. But it didn't work on one young beauty who, it is said, was the love of his life.
In the late Sixties he left Britain to try to make a success of his modelling career. He had fallen in love with Lady Charlotte Anne Curzon and vowed to come back, a great success, so he could marry her. It never happened. His modelling career flopped and when he arrived back in London, two years later, she had married someone else.
Sir Dai threw himself with even more enthusiasm into the life that came to characterise him: parties, drinking and seduction. Some detected a Celtic self-destructive streak and he was indeed a child of the valleys. He was born in Aberdare, South Wales, on 2 April 1946 the eldest son of Sir Harry Llewellyn, the third baronet. He was brought up at Gobion Manor, near Abergavenny and went to Eton. He never succeeded in making a career and never had much money. Taki Theodoracopulos, the Greek shipping heir, said: "He was always short, yet he always went first class. He didn't have the kind of money other people had, but I never saw him as a hanger-on. He had his pride." One of the things he was proud of was his prodigious ability to consume alcohol, yet remain sober. In an interview at the hospice last November he said he once drank eight bottles of wine, a bottle of rum, a bottle of port and a bottle of vodka in one night, yet in the morning he was perfectly lucid. It was a tale that will pursue him to the grave.
So, too, will the famous story of his rift with his brother, Roddy, who now inherits the baronetcy. Roddy had a much-publicised affair with the late Princess Margaret and he accused Sir Dai of revealing stories about the romance to journalists.
They didn't speak for years, then as it became clear Sir Dai would not recover from his illness Roddy visited him at the hospice. They lunched at a nearby pub and, to Sir Dai's immense satisfaction, parted brothers again.
"Blood," Sir Dai declared after the making-up, "is thicker than wine."
Well, he should know.
Below, the many faces of Sir Dai: dressing up in 2002; with his then fiancée Christel Jurgenson in 2006; at a party in 1979; giving a salute; with his brother Roddy in November last year
Reader views (5)
Thank you for all your support of Janet's Bar, South Kensington-a fellow Welshman. Your love of Kummel shall live on in South Ken.
- Janet Evans, London, 31/03/2009 15:26
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A great loss of a great character. Always the centre of attention at a party, indeed always made the party shine.
Travelling in 'Van Rouge' (a converted old folks ambulance) to Ascot bring back entertaining memories. Merry lunches and dinners with copious amounts of alcohol and stories to match.
Above all, great acts of kindness. On hearing of the passing of my mother's beloved Dachshund Charlie, he shut the whole pub up in order to make a tearful toast to the dog's new life in heaven.
Dai always asked after other people and always wrote thank you notes to his hosts.
So, not only did he balance debauchery on one side, he matched it equally with kindness on the other.
Cheers Dai
- Rupert Lund, Chelsea, London, 15/01/2009 15:13
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He came ... He Soared and He conquered .... Travel fast and travel furiously he once told me .... and damn the man he was bloody right ....
- Mark, Hong Kong, 15/01/2009 09:43
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Goodbye to a complete waste of space
- Trevn, Abu Dhabi, 15/01/2009 06:03
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And so the country turns a little more grey as another of the few remaining colourful personalities leaves the stage.
- Patrick Griffin, Dalston, London, 14/01/2009 13:16
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